


can you save me, baby?

by rhodeytony



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, is this canon divergence? we’ll see, physical and emotional hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 21:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodeytony/pseuds/rhodeytony
Summary: “i’m working with him?” napoleon asked incredulously.“trust me, i don’t want to be working with some american cowboy either” illya said, crossing his arms.“american cowboy? is there any other type if cowboy?”or the one where gaby and waverly start UNCLE and recruit napoleon and illya. napoleon and illya don’t exactly get along but they sure as hell do get the job done.





	can you save me, baby?

**Author's Note:**

> helllooooo!! 
> 
> this is my first chapter fic, updates will not be regular, and i have no beta! so all mistakes are mine! we die like men.

_1965, New York City, New York: ___

__Napoleon sets down his groceries to unlock the door to his apartment when he notices that his door is slightly ajar. Abandoning his bags, he slowly pulls out his gun that's always tucked into his waistband. He screws on the silencer and turns off the safety, opening his door further with the butt of his gun. He does a sweeping search, his gun nor guard never lowered. His television set was on, showcasing the sad and newly widowed Jacqueline Kennedy. He slowly crept to the set and turned it off when a light came on._ _

__Napoleon turned quickly, his gun aimed at the forehead of a young woman. She was small, smaller than him anyway, with brown hair and she wore and orange striped stress with art deco type earrings to match. She looked unimpressed at the barrel of the gun aimed at her head._ _

__“Who the hell are you?” Napoleon asked, not lowering the gun. The girl rolled her eyes as she moved towards Napoleon’s couch, sitting in the corner seat. She crossed her legs and smoothed out her dress and picked up the latest issue of Vogue Napoleon had on his coffee table. She opened it and started to read._ _

__“My name is Gaby Teller. I work for an agency called UNCLE and we’re looking to recruit you,” she said, not taking her eyes off the pages. Napoleon still hadn’t lowered the gun._ _

__“Look, lower the gun, okay? If I wanted to shoot you, I would have by now,” the woman — Gaby Teller — said. Napoleon didn’t lower the gun._ _

__Gaby Teller had an authoritarian air about her for someone her size. She seems like someone who would be easily intimidated and not the one doing the intimidating._ _

__“What is UNCLE? What do you need me for? As you can tell, I get by pretty well on my own.” Napoleon said, keeping the gun trained on Gaby while also waving his free hand around, motioning towards his expensive home._ _

__“Yes, I can tell,” she flipped a page and kept the same bored look on her face, “but, you have… Extraordinary talents, Mr. Solo. A world renowned art thief and dealer, the greatest sharpshooter the US military has ever had… We could use someone like you in my agency.”_ _

__“But what_ is _UNCLE?”__

____Gaby put the magazine down and made eye contact with Napoleon. “Can I get a drink, please? Whiskey. Dry.” she said, crossing her legs and pulling her dress down. Napoleon looked at her sideways but conceded. He lowered the gun but never let Gaby out of his sight._ _ _ _

____After handing her her drink, she began to explain._ _ _ _

____“UNCLE stands for United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. Basically, one big spy pool where all the nations can throw in their best spies and have them work together. I started this agency with my partner, Alexander Waverly. My way of getting out of the German governments clutches and his way of expanding the British government's clutches. Now, we have enough people that countries are actually taking us seriously but we need more. We need people who can actually do the missions that big countries like the US of A are pushing off onto us. With your talents, I think you’d be a great asset.”_ _ _ _

____Gaby downed the rest of drink and set the glass on the coffee table with a ‘plink’. Napoleon did feel that the offer was enticing and it was something to do. The art world was getting so cliquish and boring, he needed something to do. Why not this?_ _ _ _

____“How much does it pay?” He asked._ _ _ _

____Gaby smiled, “it pays handsomely, don’t worry Mr. Solo.”_ _ _ _

____Napoleon couldn’t think of a reason to say no. So he didn’t. He said yes._ _ _ _

____ _ _

______1965, Moscow, Russia (USSR): _ ____ _ __

______Waverly wrapped his parka tighter around himself as the wind blew icy snow into the air. He was waiting in front of a large steel door outside. The things he did for recruitment._ _ _ _ _ _

______A flash of red went off followed by an alarm as the doors opened and out stepped a tall man, wearing black pants, a turtle neck, and a large jacket. He had blonde hair that was being swept every which way by the wind and snow was gathering on his eyelashes already._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Agent Kuryakin, I’m Alexander Waverly at your service. I would shake your hand but the weather won’t permit it!” Waverly said in a cheery tone. The cheeriness didn’t seem to catch on as the Russian agent just stood there, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched up to his ears._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Well I’ve talked to your supervisor, Oleg, and he has agreed to let you join my agency, UNCLE. It’s a network for nation’s of the world to get small, remedial missions done without wasting tons of money! How does that sound to you?” Waverly was yelling his words now as the wind picked up._ _ _ _ _ _

______Agent Kuryakin nodded. “OK with Oleg, OK with me” was all he said with a small shrug of his shoulders._ _ _ _ _ _

______Secretly, Kuryakin couldn’t wait to leave the KGB. He was sick of feeling underminder and underestimated even though it was proven that he was their greatest agent. Illya Kuryakin, the KGB’s greatest and most efficient agent, leaving! It sounded so good to him but he didn’t want to jinx it so he forced it out of his mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Good!” Waverly yelled, “We’ll meet at the Moscow airport tomorrow at 9:00 am! We leave for England immediately! That’s where UNCLE headquarters are!” Waverly said. Illya nodded and walked back through the large open doors._ _ _ _ _ _

______Again, the sound and red flashing started as the doors closed by Kuryakin, who was walking down the hall with excitement and glee coursing through him. He felt giddy like a child as he went to his room to pack up his things. Tomorrow, he would be leaving and would no longer be a pawn in the game._ _ _ _ _ _

______Illya considered what to bring and what to leave behind for the other agents to keep. He had already wrapped up his chess board nicely and set it in the suitcase that he brought with him when he first joined the KGB at 15 years old._ _ _ _ _ _

______He was finally leaving after two whole decades… He couldn’t wait._ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> this was short but it was a started! next one will be longer i promise!! let me know what u think— comments are super appreciated!


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